Forbidding Mourning
by sunburntdaisy
Summary: <html><head></head>Margaret doesn't return to Cutter Gap... till later...</html>
1. Our two souls therefore

Disclaimer – characters and premise aren't mine. Just takin' them for a ride. Cheers :)

Note: The title is a reference to A Valediction Forbidding Mourning, a poem by John Donne. Read it.

* * *

><p>She nestled into his side, waiting for her mind to adjust to this new reality. She didn't feel at all exposed or vulnerable – how was it possible? She sighed and ran her hand across his belly and up his side.<p>

He rolled toward her, hooking his foot around her leg and holding her close. His legs felt rough and hard, but so very good. He smiled, cheeky and mischievous, then trailed his fingers up her thigh, stopping at her hip. "How are you feeling?"

She smiled. "Good."

"Anything like what you expected?"

She shook her head, a little shy, but she saw the love in his eyes. "I don't know what I expected but not that." She kissed him.

"I love you so much." He hugged her tight.

Feeling bold, she shifted her leg between his, trailing her foot up and down his calf.

He kissed her neck and shoulder then found her mouth. Between languid kisses they explored oneanother.

The sun was just setting in the late summer sky. She lay back, her body pleasantly heavy. Three more weeks of this, till school went back.

Neil lay on his side, propped up on one arm, watching her. "Are you about to fall asleep?"

"I could."

He ran his hand back and forth across her belly. "We should eat something."

She nodded and he got up out of bed. She watched him dress, then turn to her. He leaned over her, searching under the covers with his hands, till he found her hands. He pulled her up.

"My robe," she protested.

He nodded, but didn't let her go, wrapping his arms securely around her, pressing her to him. "You are incredible – there are no words to do you justice." He kissed her then let her go.

She lingered a moment, kissed him again, then summoning courage, walked across to the wardrobe. She put on a night gown, then a robe, and turned to him. "Well?"

He shrugged, "I suppose you'd be cold otherwise."

She laughed and pushed him out the door.

They were half way through supper when they heard a horse approaching at a gallop.

Christy pulled a shawl around herself and tucked her naked feet under her clothes.

Neil buttoned up the top of his shirt and went out onto the porch. "Alice?"

"I'm sorry Neil, Influenza at Low Gap. One child already dead; four serious cases. Pneumonia, I suspect."

"I'll get my bags."

He returned with the most apologetic look on his face.

She shook her head, understanding completely. Standing, she went to him, kissed him quickly. "Go."

He disappeared into his laboratory and she packed up some food for him.

"I could be a few days but I'll try to be back as soon as I can."

"I know. It's alright. I'll be fine."

"It's never been so hard to leave," he hugged her tightly, then letting go, ran his hands up her body, to cup her face. He exhaled, "I love you."

"I love you," She kissed him again then followed him out to the porch, giving Miss Alice a smile and a wave before heading back inside.

She finished eating, tidied up, then looked around. It was a temperate evening so she set the fire but didn't light it, leaving it for the cold morning that might follow. It was strange everytime she thought of it, and she'd thought of it dozens of times, but it was no less strange: this was her home. Her suitcases were still half-unpacked, but they were up in Neil's – no, _their_ bedroom.

She climbed the stairs and knelt on the floor to open the case. Inside were pictures and books, photographs and drawings in frames, a few precious nick-nacks. There was a bundle her mother had brought from Ashville. She hadn't had a chance to open it yet.

Putting a photo of her family on her bedside table, she sat on the messy bed and unwrapped the bundle.

Her teddy bear! She laughed and hugged it to her chest. There was a table cloth and a small vase, the silver candle-holder she'd had in her bedroom at home; all of them family heirlooms that had little monetary value but made up for it in the sentimental.

Hours later she pushed her empty suitcases under the bed, lit the candle in her silver candle-holder, and went to relieve herself before bed. Walking through the dark cabin, she felt the slightest tremor of nerves. She was alone.

But then she thought of Neil, walking through that door, in a day or two perhaps, but soon. Just the thought made her feel safe and at home.


	2. which are one

On the second day she walked up to the mission.

"Morning teacher!" Cried Ruby Mae, running down the slope toward her.

Christy grinned and hugged the girl. "Good morning, Ruby Mae. How are you?"

"I'm jest fine, Miz Christy. How are you?"

"I was wondering if there had been any word from Low Gap – I know it's only been two days."

"Haven't heard nothing – and near as I can figure it, you're meant to miss yer man, even for two days."

Christy laughed. "Well, I might head up to the school and start getting ready for term."

"Alright, I gots a load a chores ta do. Will you come down for dinner?"

Christy held up a lunch pail. "Thank you, I'll come down and eat with you though."

Ruby Mae grinned and ran off.

Christy walked up to the school – which didn't look much like her classroom after two months of holidays. The seats were arranged for church services and her desk was against the wall.

She pulled it out just enough to sit at it, and found her planner. She made grade lists and spelling lists, scoured text books and planned assignments.

"I heard you were visiting." David walked up the aisle toward her.

"A little bird told you?" She looked up from her work.

"She did – and she'd like you to join us for dinner, if you dare."

"I brought mine," she stood up and grabbed her meal, "but I'll join you."

He considered her, while she walked toward him, then spoke, "It could be a few more days – you can always stay in your old room if you get tired of being alone."

She shook her head, "I don't mind. Might as well do something useful though."

* * *

><p>Late that night her words came back to her. She did mind, who was she kidding? Eventually she slept, longing for Neil to magically appear beside her. She shrugged it off as her vivid imagination when she heard him arrive home, but her heart soared feeling his warm body sidle up to hers, surrounding her. She turned to face him, kissed him, hugged him tight.<p>

"Low Gap's never been so far away." He held her tight, kissing her hair. "It's a strange and wonderful thing to know you'll always be here when I get home, warming the bed."

She kissed him, pushing him back, laughing all the while. "I always will."

He held her face between his hands, "Thank God."

She ran her fingers through his hair, "You should sleep."

"I really should." He pulled her on top of him and kissed her.

* * *

><p>She watched him sleep in the morning light, his hair all mussed, the lines of his face soft. He probably hadn't had more than a few hours rest in days. She crept out of bed, afraid of waking him, and tiptoed downstairs.<p>

Breakfast was almost ready, coffee steaming, it's mouth-watering aroma filling the cabin with warmth. He came up behind her, put his arms around her, nestled his face into her shoulder, inhaled and sighed.

"Good morning." She leaned back into his warm and solid frame.

"Indeed."

She shook her hands off and turned in his arms, kissed him. Her hands left flour on his face. She laughed and brushed it off, not very successfully.

"That smell – Mm. You're setting the bar very high, Christy. You'd better warn me now if I won't wake to this everyday."

"When I have to be at school by now? Bad news, Doc. It aint going to happen."

"Ah, we'll take it in turns. Fresh coffee and biscuits – there's a jar of Spencer honey here somewhere – a wedding gift."

Christy pointed out where she'd put it.

"You tidied up."

"Unpacking my things and putting away wedding presents kept me busy for less than a day."

"So what have you been doing with yourself – other than missing me?"

She grinned, poured the coffee, "I went up to the school, started planning the new term."

"Of course you did." He sat down and opened the honey.

"There's a lot to do – but I'll work away at it while you're working. I'm unlikely to get you to myself for rest of the summer with Influenza in the mix."

"Everyone seems to be on the mend. Alice stayed on to make sure it stays that way."

Christy nodded and they dug into breakfast.

It was their one perfect day. In the middle of the night someone banged on the door. Neil went down to see what they needed and returned to bid farewell. "Raven Gap." He kissed her, lingered.

Groggy from sleep she nodded, murmered, "I love you," and went back to sleep.


	3. Though I must go

Two days later, Alice returned and found Christy at the school. "Welcome to married life?"

Christy smiled. "How is everyone at Low Gap?"

"On the mend. Neil's at Raven Gap?"

Christy nodded. "I thought if I worked while he was away the time would go faster and I wouldn't need to work when he's back."

"That's a good thought."

"Time's not going much faster though."

"No. Well, you must eat meals with us, visit whenever you like. You don't have to be working. You know you'll always be welcome."

"I know. I'll come down in a couple of hours."

Alice nodded and left her.

* * *

><p>"I hope you're almost finished." Neil's voice called her from her reverie.<p>

She almost tripped over her chair in her haste to get to him. Running up the aisle, he caught her in his arms. They held one another tight.

"How was it?" she asked eventually, loosening her grip on him, just enough to see his face.

He shook his head, "It's not good. It'll be a miracle if it's not spread further, but I'd done all I could and needed supplies... and you." He kissed her.

She responded uninhibited.

He picked her up and started carrying her out to Charlie.

"Oh, wait. I told Miss Alice I'd join them for lunch."

He shook his head. "She'll understand."

"Yes, but we need to tell her."

He sighed and put her down. "Fine. We'll tell them you're _not_ satying for lunch, then we'll go."

"Or we could both stay for lunch." She started walking.

He untied Charlie and jogged to catch up. "Not likely."

"If we eat here we don't need to make a meal at home, or eat. More time for..."

He grabbed her and kissed her.

She laughed and pulled away, surprised at her own brazen behaviour. "Neil!"

He cleared his throat, shook his head. "I couldn't help it." With a shrug he kept walking, stabled Charlie and followed her inside.

There was an unfamiliar face at the table. Christy barely paused, "Hi, I teach at the school," she held out her hand to the elegant woman, "I'm Christy Huddleston – No, sorry. Christy MacNeil. We just got married," She turned to Neil, who'd stepped in behind her. "It's all pretty new. I wonder how long it will take till I don't have to think twice when I say my name." She laughed, not noticing Alice's blanched expression or Neil's silence.

The woman looked right past Christy, but took her hand. "It doesn't take long. Margaret MacNeil. See? Rolls right off the tongue."

Christy smiled, brow wrinkled in confusion. "Sorry?"

Margaret raised her eyebrows.

Christy turned to Alice, then Neil. The expression of horror on his face made her turn back to Margaret. "You're... excuse me." She fled the room, the house, desperate for air. It didn't come. She pulled at her collar, stumbling down the steps, and fell to her knees on the dirt, vomiting on the ground.

Alice followed her, knelt beside her, rubbed her back. When her stomach was empty the older woman, pulled Christy into her arms, rocked her back and forth, shaking her head in disbelief.

Neil stood on the porch, watching, helpless.

Margaret came up behind him, "I know this must be a shock to you." She put her hand on his arm.

He shrunk from her touch as from a hot poker. "How could you?" His voice was weak, but anger built and there was strength in it.

"I was dying here. I knew you'd come after me so I did what I had to do. Can you really blame me?"

"Only you could be so-" He went to Christy, helping her up, pulling her from Alice's grasp.

Christy pushed him away, looked at Margaret.

"She's so young." Margaret said.

"Don't you dare. You are dead to me. You're dead to me!" He looked at Christy, saw how she shrunk from him. He couldn't stand it, turned and fled, mounting Charlie in a leap, galloping out of sight.

Christy clutched her stomach, leaned on the stair railing.

"You need to leave." Alice got to her feet and turned on Margaret. "Go!"

"Of course. How fortunate you found a replacement – no need for me anymore. A new daughter – and Mac's new wife to top it off. How perfect for you both." She walked away, shoulders back and proud as ever.

Alice watched for a moment then helped Christy inside. "Oh, my dear girl. My dear, dear girl."

Christy stared into the fire, strangely comforted by the dancing flames, the way they quieted her mind.

Alice tried to pour tea but her hands shook so much she had to pour it off the saucer into the cup.

"Oh, Miss Alice," Christy snapped her eyes away from the flames. "I'm sorry, I didn't think of you – your daughter is..."

"Don't even think of me, Christy."

"But-"

"No," Alice shook her head.

The hours turned into days. She must have slept some time. Her mind went over and over, round in circles, over those precious hours after their wedding, the too-short time they'd spent together, but too long, she now realised. They'd never actually been married – it wasn't real. It couldn't be. The realisation of what they'd done hit her again and again, the force never seeming to lessen.

Neil rode home, rage burning in his chest, his knees pressing violently into Charlie's sides, urging him on. But when he got home he was at a loss; what was he going to do now? He haphazardly tied the horse up, stepped up to the porch, paused.

How he'd looked forward to being home again? In a moment everything had changed; everything was lost. It couldn't be. His mind couldn't comprehend it.

In a kind of daze he went inside. The fire was set, ready to light, and there were flowers on the table. He picked them up – the vase was not his. This was Christy's. Afraid he'd drop it, he put it down again.

He sat, unequal to staying standing, rested his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. This was quite simply unfathomable.

There was a cup on the table. He grabbed it and threw it, angry tears stinging his eyes, his throat aching. Water splashed out of the wooden cup and it bounced off the floor. Then he saw the note that had been sitting under the cup.

_Neil, I'm at the school. I love you and long for you. _

_Yours (entirely)_

_Christy MacNeil. Xx_

He crumpled it in his hand, groaning in frustration. Standing, he threw his chair across the floor.


	4. endure not yet a breach

He woke in his bed, head throbbing, mouth tasting foul, ears ringing. He rolled over and groaned, opened his eyes and squinted at the picture of Christy's family which sat on the bedside table. Just like before. As he gained full consciousness he remembered it wasn't just like before, and wished he could go back to sleep, wished he could pretend Margaret's return had just been a bad dream.

He dragged himself up out of bed. For a moment, he considered making breakfast, then he thought perhaps another drink would help more. No – by the time he got down the stairs he'd seen Christy's presence or haunting absence everywhere in the cabin and realised he couldn't stay here. Not for a single moment longer than it took to get his boots on and get out the door.

Would he have to clear out Christy's things one day? Take down the pictures she'd only put up a week ago? He couldn't even think of it. No. There had to be a way.

It didn't take him long to think of it: he could divorce Margaret – surely any judge worth his salt could make that happen. Considering what she'd done, how long it had been since... surely.

He was in El Pano before the sun was high in the sky, and on a train by nightfall.

* * *

><p>"You can't just take it back." Alice sat down on Neil's bed, watching Christy pack.<p>

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Christy sat back on the floor. The bag was a mess.

Alice knelt down beside her, opened the bag and pulled everything out, folding it and putting each item of clothing back inside the bag.

"It's all I can do. My father will help. And it will be as if we never..." Reality hit her again. She clapped her hand to her mouth and cried.

"Oh, Christy." Alice bundled her into her arms.

"The marriage'll be annulled." She said through sobs. "It has to be."

Alice just rubbed her back, her head, her arms. There was nothing to say that could help, nothing but a prayer that she could offer. She couldn't think of Margaret, couldn't spare a thought or care, and she was glad of it.

The next day she took Christy to El Pano and put her on a train to Ashville.

* * *

><p>Her parents were wonderful. They asked the bare minimum of questions, looked after her, watched and waited.<p>

"Daddy." She found him in his study one evening.

"What is it darling?"

"I need you to tell me how to get an annulment."

He took a deep breath. "All right. If you're sure."

"I'm sure." She willed herself to keep her emotions in check, her head clear.

"Come with me to the office tomorrow."

"All right." She left, her resolve and composure slipping.

She was a mess. For two weeks she had cried herself to sleep or else not gone to bed, just stared into the dying embers of the parlour's fireplace, until her brain shut off. When she slept in bed she had fewer dreams, but in the space between sleeping and waking, her half-conscious mind drummed up a hot body beside hers, sneaking in from working late. Waking up and realising it wasn't Neil, but rather a cruel figment of her imagination, made her dread going to sleep at all.

The next day she looked at a piece of paper, hand poised to sign.

"What is it darling?" Her father moved to stand behind her, hand on her shoulder.

She shook her head, "I'm tired." She signed, quick, before she could think about it any more. What difference did it really make anyway? This was just the bit of paper, the legal technicality, the official hard proof that it had never happened. Only it had and she couldn't imagine how this bit of paper would make it any less real.

But it had to be done.

"Where are you going, darling?" Her mother stood in her doorway.

"Back to Cutter Gap."

"No, Christy. You can't go back."

"I have to Mama. I have my work, the children."

"But you won't be able to avoid him."

"No. Maybe not. But I can do good there. I was happy there."

"Darling, you can't go back. You can't pretend it never happened."

"Isn't that why you want me to stay here – to pretend it never happened? Maybe in a few years the whispers and the rumours will stop and someone will want to marry me? I just can't Mama."

Her mother sighed, slowly nodded. "All right. I'll come with you to the station."

* * *

><p>She slept on the train, stayed the night in El Pano, and started out early the next morning for the mission. The walk had never seemed so long. Seeing the mission house was such sweet relief, she thought she could almost just faint. She marvelled at how changed she was, how weak and emotional, easily shaken, and tired. So tired.<p>

David was doing repairs and saw her first. He jumped down from the ladder and ran out to meet her, taking her case. "Welcome home."

She smiled, took his arm. "Thank you. It is good to be home."

"You are the strongest, most determined woman I have ever met." He chuckled, watching her.

She laughed. "I need to sit down."

And she did as soon as she got inside.

"Did I hear – Oh, it is you." Ruby Mae skipped into the room and hugged Christy. "We surely did miss you Miz Christy."

"Thank you, Ruby Mae."

"I'll put on some tea. Miss Alice is up at Cataleechie – due back today though, I reckon."

Christy drank her tea and trudged up the stairs, falling into her bed and asleep before either thoughts or tears got in the way.


	5. but an expansion

She went up to the school after breakfast. There was so much to do. And thank God for that. The morning raced past. She ate her lunch at her desk, four different books open and pen going in one hand, an apple in the other. The term was going to be short, but other than that, it was coming together nicely. At one point she thought she heard a horse approaching. She thought of Neil, wondered if he was in the cove, if he was just outside or down at the mission. But no one came in, so she shook off the half-hope, half-dread that engulfed her at the thought. She must have been imagining things. She hoped that particular habit would pass soon.

When it got too dark at her desk to see without candlelight, she packed up some reading for the evening and headed out.

There on the bottom step sat Neil MacNeil.

She stopped at the top.

He turned.

"I can't do this right now." She hugged the books to her chest.

He stood up. "Do what?"

"Talk to you."

"Christy, please. Come home."

"How can you... ask..." She grabbed at the railing for support, and was unable to keep looking at him. She just wanted to go to him, fall into his arms. She ached for his touch. "I can't see you. I'm not ready yet."

"We can work this out." He insisted.

"There's nothing to work out."

He climbed the stairs to her. "Please, look at me." He took hold of her arms.

She pulled away, but looked at him, and oh, how it hurt. "This is killing me. Can't you see this is killing me?"

"I'm sorry." He stepped back, "I'm sorry."

"We have to just pretend like it never happened."

"I can't." His voice broke.

Neither could she. She couldn't bare to look at him. As long as he was near there was no way she could pretend like it had never happened. "Please go. I need you to go."

He turned and walked away.

She stumbled back into the school, collapsed on the closest chair and cried, making sure to be silent. If he heard her and came back – she knew she lacked the strength to send him away again. She wanted to go after him, even then. Hearing Charlie ride away, she sighed, with relief and desolation. It was over.

* * *

><p>"Miss Huddleston," Alice put her hand to Christy's shoulder. She was asleep at the breakfast table.<p>

"Oh, I'm sorry. I..."

"Are getting much sleep?"

Christy nodded. "Maybe. I guess not enough."

"Is that it?"

"Probably."

"Are you hungry?"

"Starving."

"Well, that's a good sign." Alice dished up a big bowl of oatmeal and put it in front of Christy. "So, are you all ready for school?"

Christy nodded, "Yes, I'm really looking forward to it."

"Good."

Christy told her about her plans for the different grades, the books they'd be reading, the history she looked forward to teaching, and the work that would follow.

Alice watched her, happy but weary. It was almost like normal. Neil had left Cutter Gap. He'd left Alice a note and an address in case of emergency. She couldn't blame him, not really.

* * *

><p>Christy was busy, or absent from the mission, for that whole first week that school was back. It wasn't until the weekend that Alice managed to catch her.<p>

"How are you this morning?" Alice found her on the porch before breakfast.

"Oh, fine." Christy turned to her, "Actually, I was feeling a little under the weather. I think I just need to eat something."

Alice nodded. "I'll be right back – you'd rather be out here?"

Christy nodded, ignoring the look of concern on her friend's face. She was so sick of the looks of concern, the whole spectrum, from compassion to pity; it was all driving her up the wall. How was she supposed to act like normal when everyone treated her like she was ill?

Alice brought out some biscuits and jam.

"Oh, that is just what I feel like." Christy took one and ate with gusto. "I feel better already."

Alice nodded, "Christy," she took a deep breath.

Christy wished she wouldn't start. "Can't we just pretend like normal? I think I need that for a while."

Alice just looked at her. "Is it possible... Do you think that maybe it's possible that you're pregnant?"

"What? No." Christy shook her head without giving it a thought. Her friend was silent, waiting, watching. Christy considered it for a moment. It was possible, wasn't it? A moment later she was certain of it. She dropped her half-eaten biscuit. "I didn't even... I never even considered..."

"So it is possible?" Alice asked for a clear answer, gracious as ever.

"Oh, Miss Alice. What am I going to do?" She clapped her hand to her mouth, grabbing at the banister for support.

"Nothing, for now." Alice put her arm around Christy. "It can't be more than, what, 9 weeks?"

"What difference does that make?"

"Only that I don't think you should tell anyone yet. If anything were to happen -" she paused, letting her meaning sink in, "it would likely happen in the first three months."

"You mean – if I were to lose it."

Alice nodded.

"Oh, what am I going to do?"

"There is time to figure that out."

Christy sat down, unable to fathom this new reality. A baby? This could have been something to celebrate – it should have been... No. She would get nowhere with wishing things were different.

"I want you to know that I will be there all along the way. You will not be alone in this." Alice gripped her hand.

Christy looked up at the older woman, then down at her body, trying to believe what she knew must be true.

"You are coping with this better than I did."

Christy was blank, stunned. "What did you do?"

"I yelled more. And cried more."

"Oh, it'll come – the crying at least."

"You are an incredibly brave young woman." Alice shook her head. Her eyes were kind, reassuring.

"I can't fathom this. I don't know what to think, how to... Oh God, what am I going to do?" She balled her hands and pressed them to her eyes.


	6. Like gold to aery thinness beat

Christy put on a brave face, accidentally forgetting her situation a half dozen times every day. She worked till the end of the term, busied herself with Christmas decorating and even enjoyed the carols, identifying with Mary in all new and terrifying ways.

A few days before Christmas, at the mission, they put up the tree. The children had made decorations in school, illustrations of the Christmas story. She spent an evening looking at the children's decorations and took her time putting them up.

"Christy," David sat on the couch behind her.

She turned and found they were alone.

"I know." He gave her a significant look.

"You know...?"

"I know."

"Oh." It suddenly got real – more real. David knew. Her secret wasn't going to stay a secret.

"I overheard you and Alice talking."

Christy nodded.

"Look," he stood up beside her, took her hands, "I want to marry you. I care about you and you deserve better than this. I know you don't love me like you do him. I don't expect that to change. But you deserve better than this. We could be a family. We could stay here, or whatever you like."

"Oh, David. I can't ask that of you."

"You didn't."

She looked up at him, into his kind eyes. She'd once thought of him that way, thought she might one day love him. She'd only been swept up in his feelings for her. "I have to think about it."

He nodded, "Of course."

"Thank you – it's a very generous, incredible offer."

"If we do, then we should do so soon. Or else I suspect we'd have to leave the cove, and I know that's the last thing you want to do."

She reached out for him and he hugged her.

A horse whinnied outside.

Christy turned to see out the window, pulling away from David.

She tore out the door. There was no doubt in her mind that it was Neil riding away in haste, and that he'd seen her hugging David. She forgot everything, only aware of what he must be thinking and feeling, seeing her embrace a man who'd once courted her.

"Neil, wait!" She cried out, running down the steps. She could hear his horse galloping away – he'd already disappeared into the dark.

David was standing on the porch behind her.

Christy headed for the stables and started saddling Prince.

"Christy, this is rash. Go to him in the morning. It's dark and cold; you're in no state to..."

"Are you going to help me or stand there?"

"Christy!"

She ignored him, tightening the straps. "You can help me or you can lecture me, but either way I'm going after him. I have to explain."

He sighed, checked and adjusted the straps, then helped her up into the saddle. "Please be careful."

"I will. I promise."

"You're saying no, aren't you?"

"I'll think about it." She rode out of the stables. It was really dark, and probably icy, but Prince was sure-footed so she let him have the reigns most of the way.

David was right, she realised; she couldn't marry David – she couldn't do that to Neil. She couldn't pretend this baby was David's. For starters he or she would probably have wild auburn curls. The thought made her smile. The thought that she might lose this baby, that life would be easier if she did, was heartbreaking. At some point it had stopped being a tragedy and become a wonderful gift.

She got more nervous on the descent to Neil's cabin. Her need to set the record straight, to reassure Neil, overwhelmed her fears of facing him again. She prayed for courage to walk into his home and then, the hard part, out again.

She paused at the door, took a deep breath and knocked. She heard him groan, furniture scraped against the floor, then footsteps.

"What is it?" He barked as he opened the door. "Oh." His tone softened.

"It was just a hug." She spoke quickly and hated how defensive she sounded.

"What?" He snapped.

"You were at the mission, weren't you? You saw David hug me. I didn't want you to think..."

He nodded once, cold as ice.

"Neil," She begged. She wasn't sure what for, but she was begging.

"You want to talk now? You told me to go, so I went."

She nodded. "And now you're back."

"This is my home – though you're everywhere in it." He backed into the cabin.

Knowing it would weaken her, but unable to avoid it, she stepped inside. It was just barely warmer, sheltered from the wind.

"Alice wrote to me." He said

"What did she say?"

"That you needed me."

She waited, wondered, then realised: he did not know about the baby.

"Do you?" He wasn't looking at her.

"Oh Neil, I need to tell you something. I need to -" She sighed, felt his eyes on her, looked up. "I'm pregnant."

His eyes widened, but he reigned in his response and stepped up to her. "Are you all right?"

"I'm healthy – just tired."

He smiled, slightly, tried to keep it under wraps, took her face between his hands and made her look at him. "I will make this right." He vowed.

She shook her head. "You're still married."

"The divorce papers are in the mail. If I am it's a technicality. You are my wife." He took hold of her arms. "These past weeks have been torture."

She nodded her agreement, finally daring to look him in the eye. There was just no way she could pull away when he kissed her. It was like coming home. They may have had barely two nights together, but there had been hundreds of kisses, thousands. And now, all barriers were down. She was too tired, too tired of being strong. He was warm and strong, and it felt so very right. She held onto him desperately, her body acting without checking in with her brain, as if this were a natural, undeniable instinct. Any rational thought was whisked away with the next kiss, and there wasn't space between them for the fog to clear.

He picked her up and carried her to their bed, never allowing a space between their bodies. This was the only warm space in an ice-cold world.

Afterwards there was no letting go. His hold on her loosened just enough that they might lie next to each other. He pulled up the blankets, tucked them around her then rested his head on the pillow, watching her face like it held the secrets to the universe.

She traced her fingertips around the lines of his face, leaning in for kisses as if to assure herself he was real. "That was incredible." She groaned when he caressed her, pressing against him on impulse.

He smiled, pulled her close, chest swelling with joy at seeing her pleasure, at having her back, where she belonged.

He watched her fall asleep and he soon followed.


	7. If they be two

She woke, thinking this was another one of those delusions. Then the memory came back to her – the body behind hers was no figment of her imagination, the hand on her belly, the other on her breast, they were very real.

She exhaled, realisation paralysing her. They weren't married – not any more, not ever, in fact. And yet, here she was in his bed.

"Are you all right?" He whispered behind her ear.

She closed her eyes, his warm breath on her neck too much. "I can't do this." She cried, "How did this ever happen?"

"It's okay, it's going to be all right." He hugged her tighter.

Finding her last shred of strength she pulled away. She stood in the cold, not caring that he saw all of her, found her clothes and dressed.

"Christy, you can't just leave. I don't care what the law says – in the eyes of God, of all our friends and family, we are married."

"No," she turned on him, shaking her head, "We're not."

"The ceremony wasn't valid – is that what you're worried about?" He sat up, went to get out of bed, to go after her.

"You were still – you _are_ still married to Margaret. My father took care of it when I was in Ashville – had it annulled. We are not married."

He blanched, sat down, stared the space between them.

Seeing his reaction, she felt terrible, but there was no use pretending everything could just turn out fine and dandy.

"So my marriage to Margaret will haunt me forever, but my marriage to you just... never happened?"

She bit back tears, "Yes." She fled.

He didn't realise for a moment that she'd gone, then did, and threw a blanket around his waist and ran to catch her. "Christy, wait. What about the..?"

She stopped at the door, her hand on the latch.

He stopped on the stairs. "What about the baby?"

"I don't know."

He walked down the stairs, still holding the blanket around himself. "Are you going back to Ashville?"

She shook her head. "Miss Alice has been... she'll help."

"So will I." He watched her, saw the pain in her expression, though she wouldn't look at him. "Unless you really can't stand to be around me."

She exhaled. "That is not the problem; I want nothing more. But I can't just fall into your arms, and your bed, every time I feel like it."

"Blast the bit of paper, you absolutely can."

"No." She shook her head and headed out into the icy winter morning.

He had every intention of going after her, but by the time he was half-dressed his resolve had weakened. Maybe she needed some space to figure out what she wanted. No amount of talking was going to convince her that she'd done nothing wrong – that their being together was not wrong.

His cabin was freezing. Even the bed was cold now. He finished dressing and went down to build a fire. He was just about to light it when a knock came at the door.

He was up and opening the door so fast, no doubt in his mind that she'd come back. But it was Alice Henderson.

"Have you seen Christy? She didn't come home last night."

"She was here." Neil turned away, went back to lighting the fire, leaving the door open for Alice to enter if she pleased.

"And now?"

"She left."

"She told you, I take it?" She stepped inside and shut the door.

He nodded, slumping back to sit on the floor, watching the little flames grow and spread through the brush, catching the kindling.

"She's terrified Neil. Take it from me."

"This is not the same." He turned to her, got up off the floor. "I want to be that child's father – I want to be her husband – but she won't let me."

"I think we both know she wants that as well."

He leaned on the mantelpiece, sighing heavily. "How could she do it?"

"Christy has done nothing wrong."

"No – Margaret."

Alice paced, "She thought of no one but herself. You and I might be able to take a little of the blame, but it was her selfishness and disregard," Alice put her hand over her mouth, stifling a sob. "I don't know." She pulled it together, for his sake, "As too often happens, the innocent suffer the most."

He turned to face her, new resolve building. "Margaret and I will be divorced in just a few weeks. I know it's not... perfect." He sat down to put on his boots. "I have to make her see that it's not wrong."

"You know what's struck me these past few weeks, since she's known? She's not sad about the baby – she's happy." Alice shook her head. "That is one incredibly brave young woman. She has lost everything – she can't go back to her old life, her friends in the city, she can't stay here and pretend like it never happened, she'll have to stop teaching, for a while at least. And as far as she's concerned, she's lost you as well. Everything that means anything to her... she feels totally alone." Alice sighed. "She still plans to teach those children till she's showing. There's not a selfish bone in her body."

Neil put on his jacket. "I can't just let her go, Alice. It can't be a sin – is it?" He shook his head, "Surely, in God's eyes..."

"I don't know." Alice shook her head. "Christy thinks it is." She followed Neil outside.

"I couldn't believe in a God that was so demanding, so vengeful. It was her God, the God of love and light, forgiveness, grace, joy... that was why I believed. How can she believe that God would demand this of her?"

"She's not thinking about it like that." Alice mounted her horse and followed Neil up the mountain, toward the mission. "Try to understand. She is in an incredibly difficult and confusing situation. You can't expect her to be the same strong and rational woman you've known."

He kicked Charlie in the flanks and sped up.

Alice let him go, looked up to the sky, and begged for an answer, a happy ending – no, better, a new beginning. She thought of Margaret, wondered where she was, how she could ever have let them believe she was dead. "Oh Lord, do something. My little girl is so lost." She looked to the trail, knowing she should be careful in the patchy snow and frozen mud. "And Neil and Christy – they're lost too, in a way. Let them find each other."


	8. they are two so

Sitting on her bed, in her bare room, Christy wished she'd thought to bring her things home – at least her pictures, her teddy bear. If ever she needed her teddy bear, it was now... and she would want it for the baby. She'd have to go back and get it. She'd have to see Neil again.

Who was she kidding? She'd have to see him again and again. How would she ever find the strength?

She tried to pray but it felt like she was sending silent wishes to the ceiling. She stood up, opened the doors to the porch, and looked out at the mountains she loved. It was easier to pray there. She didn't get far beyond a mantra of 'help God', but that was progress.

Neil, galloped into sight on Charlie. She knew he wouldn't have seen her yet but she backed up, all ready to go and hide. Was this an answer to her prayer?

She shook herself. She was seeing what she wanted to see. Or did she want to hide? She had no idea what she wanted. Feeling totally helpless, she sat down on her bed and waited, her mantra restarting in her head, "Help, God. Help me."

She heard him knock at the door. No one answered, of course. She was the only one there – something she'd been so glad of when she'd arrived home.

She heard him let himself in and call out her name.

She couldn't find the words or the will to answer.

She heard him climbing the stairs, braced herself.

He knocked at her door. "Christy, please."

She sighed, then fearing he'd have heard her, covered her mouth with her hands, as if her silence might lead him to think she wasn't there. As if he might just leave her alone.

He slowly opened the door.

She brought her hands down from her mouth, folded her arms across her body, looking up at him nervously.

"Would you marry me again?" He knelt down on the floor in front of her. "The minute my divorce goes through, we can go to the court in Ashville and marry again."

She looked at his face, features full of hope and pain. His cheeks and nose were pink, from riding in the cold. She wanted to put her hands on his face and warm him.

"Wouldn't that make it right? We'd be married – legally."

Oh, how she wanted to say yes, believe that after all these weeks, these longest three months of her life, that after all of it, there was a solution, a way for them to be together as they had been before. She was afraid to hope that last night wasn't their last night, that she needn't be alone, ostracised, solely responsible for the child growing in her belly. She was just so afraid.

"Why not? I don't understand." He begged.

She saw the tears in his eyes, heard the desperation in his voice.

"What is it you're afraid of?"

"I'm not strong enough." Her voice was so weak it attested to the truth of her words.

"You don't need to be strong. You're not alone in this."

"I mean I'm not strong enough to hope, to try and make this work because if it doesn't... I can't lose you again. I just don't... I don't have the strength."

He nodded, jaw working to hold back the sobs which might have matched the tears spilling onto his cheeks. "What about when the divorce is through? What about then?"

"I don't know. I can't think." She put her hands on either side of her head, willing her mind to figure this out, to make a decision, to know the answer.

He slumped, shoulders sagged, head down.

She desperately wanted to reach out, run her hands through his hair, slip down onto his lap, into his embrace, to make him look up and smile and kiss her with the promise of a thousand more.

He pulled it together and looked up at her. "You're due in May?"

She nodded.

"You must be, of course."

"There being so few... possibilities."

He nodded, pulled himself up off the floor, went to the door.

With sudden resolve she got up off the bed and reached out to him. "Neil," He turned, and she saw the hope flare in his eyes. Her words caught in her throat. She'd been about to thank him for being so understanding and patient, but in that moment she realised he was doing what she was afraid to do – he had all his hopes riding on her and her fearful and hesitant response must have been tantamount to torture. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "None of this is your fault."

As if a veil was lifted from her eyes, she saw him as he was, saw that she could trust him, rely on him to sort this out, that his words were not empty promises to make her feel better, but that he would do anything for her, walk through fire if that was what she needed. She shook her head, "No, it is my fault for not trusting you. I'm sorry I pushed you away, I just panicked and thought it would be easier but..." she shook her head, "You're right. I don't know why I didn't see it before. My head has been so... I don't know. Messy?"

He smiled, ever so slightly. "Are you saying you will marry me again?"

Her smile began, faltered, then took root as she nodded, whispering, "Yes."

He crushed her to him, then let go. "Ooh, I should be more gentle with you."

She clung to him, ignoring his caution, laughed.

They stood like that for a long time, speaking occasionally, voicing their fears, reassurances, making plans. They only let go when they heard someone enter the mission downstairs. Christy reached over and carefully, silently, closed the door to her bedroom.

She looked up at him and saw the love and joy in his eyes, feeling better every minute about trusting this would work out. She was still nervous about being too close to him, not trusting herself to have any kind of restraint.

Sitting on the bed, she sighed.

He walked over, sat beside her. The space between them felt awkward and unnecessary, but to Christy it was a strange kind of reassurance that they could behave and keep their distance.

"I know you're fine, and Alice knows what she's doing, but may I... examine you?"

She was surprised to hear him so nervous in his role as doctor. "Of course." Nodding, she lay back on the bed.

He pressed his fingers gently against her abdomen. "Any sickness?"

"Not really. I feel ill when I'm hungry, but I haven't been sick."

"You said you've been tired?"

"Well I haven't been sleeping very well, so..."

"Are you eating well?"

"Very. I'm hungry all the time."

"Okay." He sat down beside her on the bed.

"Your prognosis, Doctor?"

He smiled, looked at her with shameless adoration. "You're four months pregnant and need to sleep."

"Easier said than done." She rolled onto her side.

"You slept last night."

She sighed. "I think I should stay here – till everything is sorted out."

He nodded, not looking at her. "I understand."

"Do you?"

He turned, looked at her, seeming not to understand her question.

"It hurts to be this close and not touch you." She said.

"So you want me to stay away, until..." He stood up and moved as if to leave.

She sat up. "Why Ashville?"

He turned. "I thought, given that the annulment went through there."

She shook her head, "I never want to go back to that courthouse again. Maybe David would marry us."

He looked sceptical.

"He knows, and he wants to help." She swivelled to sit on the edge of the bed.

"He offered to marry you, didn't he?" Neil's eyes widened, mind racing.

There was no use denying it, but she hesitated. "Yes, but I would never... There's no one for me but you."

He wouldn't look at her.

"This jealousy is ridiculous, Neil. Consider only the events of the past twelve hours and you have to know how I feel about you."

"I was trying not to think of last night because you don't want me near you and it's hard enough without the thought of..." He sighed, shook his head.

She smiled. "That's why I'm suggesting we marry here. We wouldn't have to wait, or travel. What if it takes weeks or months before you hear back. I'll be the size of a house by then."

"Not quite." He sat down beside her.

She turned to him, waiting for a real answer.

"You're right. We should do it here," he cupped her cheek with his hand, "I don't think I can wait days, let alone weeks or months."

"You did before."

"I didn't know what I was missing."

She laughed, then turned serious. "I know what you mean." She saw him look at her mouth when she laughed. Taking the meaning of her words, he lost all power of resistance and kissed her.

She kissed him, but the rest of her froze.

He stopped.

"We can't keep doing this. You have to know I want to as much as you but I want it to be right."

"It shouldn't be wrong." He stood up, exasperated.

"No! It shouldn't be. And I don't know if it is. All I'm certain of, is that it should always be right – you and I, together, is so right. I want to never doubt it. I want to be with you and always know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that it is right."

"And for that to happen," his voice was cold, resigned, "I need to disappear for a while. You know perfectly well that I can't be near you and keep my distance at the same time. It's one or the other." He watched her, waiting for her to say he was wrong, but she said nothing. "Distance it is." He left.

As soon as the door closed, she shut her eyes and let her head fall back. She felt the ache in her throat warning her of oncoming tears. She knew how she was hurting him and she wondered how long she could keep it up. What if the divorce took months? What if Neil came back to her, asked again and again? She would give in. Her body would betray her will. There was just no way she had the kind of strength she would need to resist him. She could only hope he would stay away – but it was a strange hope, one unfaithful to her heart.


	9. As stiff twin compasses are two

Christmas and New Years passed. The winter term began. Alice assured Christy almost daily that no one would see any difference in her body. So long as she could avoid the self-conscious caress of her belly that seemed a natural response to the new, firm roundness there, she might be able to hide it for another month, six weeks even.

She didn't see Neil. Alice mentioned his whereabouts on occasion. He was avoiding the mission but no one mentioned his conspicuous absence in Christy's presence.

* * *

><p>(NB: Please excuse the liberties I have taken with the seasonstimeline from the tv series.)

It was a beautiful winters day, sunny but very cold. So Christy was confused by George O'Teale's behaviour when he slumped down on his desk all hot and bothered.

"What's the matter George? Maths tiring you out?"

"Don't feel good, teacher."

She touched her fingertips to his forehead and minutes later sent John Spencer to run for the Doctor.

Neil's eyes were wide and grave when he stood in the doorway, looking down the aisle at her cradling George in her arms. He examined the boy, sending the other children outside.

"What's wrong with him?" Christy handed the doctor a wet rag.

Rob Allen stepped up to the door. "Doc MacNeil," he groaned and then collapsed.

Christy and Neil rushed to him.

"What's going on?" She cried.

"Find Fairlight. Have her gather the children outside the school. Keep them calm and check them quietly for symptoms."

"What is it?" She demanded.

The doctor undid Rob's collar. "He's got no rash. Yet."

"Rash?" Panic rose in her voice.

"Find a white cloth and run it up the flag pole. I'm declaring a quarantine."

"Scarlett Fever?"

"I don't know. But until I find out no one leaves this mission."

She got up but he grabbed her hand to keep her from going.

"Keep your distance, Christy. Have Fairlight check the children. I don't want you near this."

"But Neil,"

"Do as I say."

She did. Fairlight was clearly confused by Christy's handing off the care of the children, but asked no questions.

Christy stayed out of the school house, away from Rob and George. She sat on the lawn with some of the children and played a hand game, till Neil came outside and signalled her over.

"I said to stay away." He scolded.

"I am."

"Just because they have no symptoms doesn't mean they don't have this illness. I don't know for certain what it is yet."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

He took her arm and led her away from the people, toward the mission house. "I know this is frustrating and you want to help, but I don't know what we're dealing with and I can't risk it."

"But it's fine for you, and for Fairlight."

Fairlight approached them. "Is everything all right?"

Christy nodded and walked toward her.

"Christy!" Neil turned.

"It's Little Burl." Fairlight interrupted whatever argument they were clearly having.

Neil put his hand on Christy's arm then ran up to the school.

"What's wrong?" Fairlight asked Christy, wondering why she wasn't following him.

"Nothing. You should go. He might need your help."

Fairlight looked confused but nodded. "I'll go now. But as soon as I'm done you're going to tell me what's going on." Fairlight waited for Christy's agreement.

She nodded. "Go."

* * *

><p>Fairlight found her in the kitchen making cornbread. "What are you doing?"<p>

"The only thing I can think of to help." Christy opened the oven and slid the dish in.

"I don't understand." Fairlight stepped closer.

"Neil's worried that it might be something..." Christy sighed, there was no avoiding the straight answer now. "He's worried whatever it is might be more dangerous for me. Because I'm pregnant."

"Oh," Fairlight mouthed, eyes wide, then she smiled and hugged Christy.

Christy was surprised by her response but hugged her back.

"That's wonderful – and that will fix everything. No point play-acting like yer not married now. I knew something had to happen to make everything right and this is just the thing."

Christy hadn't thought of it like that. She smiled, "I guess."

"You are going to go home to him, aint you?"

Christy nodded uncertainly. "Just not yet."

"That don't make no sense."

"He's still married."

"He's married to you, Christy. You're getting hung up on a bit of paper. That baby needs his papa, and his papa needs you."

Ruby Mae ran into the house. "Mrs Spencer – Doc be wanting you."

Fairlight nodded and followed the girl out.

Christy wished she could accept Fairlight's words. She took the tray of fresh hot cornbread up to the children then left again. The least she could do is give Neil one less thing to worry about by keeping herself, and the baby, out of danger.

She made more food, cleaned and tidied, then hung around on the porch, waiting for news. At dusk the children went inside to school. Fairlight and some of the older students raided the missions supply of linen and blankets to set up their camp in the school. Christy watched helpless, asking for news and getting only a name, "Mountie O'Teale."

She sighed and sat down in the empty parlour, feeling utterly helpless.

"T'aint like teacher to up and give up just like that." Ruby Mae said as she walked away from the mission. Christy heard her and groaned. She couldn't hear Fairlight's reply.

She fell asleep on the sofa and woke when someone came into the house later that night. She sat up and saw Neil standing in the hall.

"Everything alright?" She asked.

"Oh, there you are." He sighed and stepped into the room but remained distant. "Thank you for staying away – I know how hard that must be."

She nodded and stood up. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You should rest."

She looked at him, waiting for an update on the children, but afraid to ask.

"There's nothing we can do now, but wait. It's still just the four of them with the fever."

"Do you know what it is?"

"I can't be certain, but..." He nodded.

She walked toward him and he backed away. She stopped. "I'll go up to bed. Wake me if..." She knew there was no point asking. He wouldn't wake her. He wouldn't go near her. She sighed.

"Say your prayers, Christy."

On her nod he turned and left.


	10. Yet, when the other far doth roam

She must have been tired. She didn't wake till mid morning and was so lethargic that it took her another half an hour to pry herself out of bed. Only the thought of the children and her desperate need to know of their well-being, got her dressed and downstairs. The house was deserted.

She put on water to boil, then went out onto the porch, trying to see if anyone was outside at the school. She resisted the urge to go closer, knowing how it would anger Neil. She wished she'd stayed in bed; it would have been easier to wait that way, but at least this way she would be seen, and if there was news, surely someone would come and tell her.

David arrived in the middle of the day and stayed on despite Doctor MacNeil's warnings. He was soon busy helping with the children and little better than anyone else at keeping Christy informed, but she couldn't blame him. For all she knew he was under orders from Neil to stay away. It was a very long three days of doing whatever little jobs she was asked between long periods of waiting. She tried to rest, clinging to Neil's instructions as if they were a way she could help him.

He found her asleep on the sofa, a lazy hand resting on her abdomen, a dying fire warming her. He stoked the fire and then knelt at her side, watching her indulgently. He looked at her hand on her belly and pictured the baby inside. At five months it was just a tiny, skinny version of a full-term baby. It would have fingers and toes and was probably wriggling around. He wondered if she'd felt it move. The thought that he was missing so much, not knowing the answer to that simple question, was depressing.

"What happened?" Christy woke to see his expression full of sadness.

He brightened, "Nothing – it's all fine. It's all over. The children are fine. They've gone home." She smiled and went to sit up but he put a hand to her shoulder. "There's nothing you need to do. You should rest."

"That's all I've done for days. Let me make you some lunch."

"It's four o'clock." He lay her back down again.

She sighed, relaxed, then saw the sadness in his features. "Neil, what's wrong?"

He gritted his teeth, reigning in his emotions. "I was just... wondering if you'd felt a kick, or anything."

She smiled. "I'm not sure. I feel things but it could just be indigestion. I don't know."

He covered his mouth with his hand.

She reached over and took his hand, looking around to make sure they were alone. She placed his hand on her stomach and they waited. There was no movement.

"Should I be feeling more?" She asked, for a moment worried.

"Not really." He shook his head. "Were you worried?"

"I don't really know enough to know what to worry about."

"Just ask."

She hesitated then nodded.

"I suppose that's easier said than done when you never see me."

She realised why he was looking so downcast and cupped his cheek with her hand. "You're not missing much. Nothing seems to be happening. It's been the longest five months of my life – thought that's in part due to your absence."

He took her hand. "Come home with me?" He waited for an answer, then suddenly couldn't wait any more. He stood up, dropping her hand, hesitated a moment, then left.

* * *

><p>Miss Alice arrived home just as Christy had summoned the energy to get up and start making supper. They hugged one another tightly then worked together to prepare the meal, catching up on the past few days events.<p>

There was a silence, not an uncomfortable one, but it gave Christy an opportunity, "Miss Alice, I need your guidance."

"Of course," Miss Alice turned from her work, giving Christy her full attention.

"Oh, that smells de-licious." Ruby Mae bowled in.

"How are you feeling, Ruby Mae?" Christy gave up the subject for later. She intended to wait up till everyone else went to bed that night, but she was so tired she gave in, excused herself and went to bed.

After a few minutes, Alice followed her up and knocked softly at her door. "There was something thee wished to speak to me about."

"Yes. I didn't know when I'd get the opportunity and I'm so tired."

Alice smiled, "That's to be expected. Can it wait till morning? We could walk after breakfast."

"No, now is fine." Christy sat on her bed and Alice took the chair near it. "I guess I've been wondering if I made the wrong decision – staying here."

"You're considering going back to Ashville?"

"No – to Neil's."

Alice hesitated. "You have been very certain about not returning to live with him. What's changed?"

Christy took a deep breath. "I realised today how much Neil is missing out on – I mean, I know he's a doctor, so it's not a great mystery, but maybe that makes it even harder for him – he knows what he's missing. This baby is as much his as mine. Do I really have the right to deny him...?" She sighed. "Fairlight said something a few days ago – about this baby needing their father, and their father needing me. Am I being selfish – worrying about a moral question I don't think there is even a clear answer to, and in the meantime hurting someone I love?" She shook her head, looked to Miss Alice, "I just don't know."

"You're not being selfish. You're trying to do the right thing, in a situation that no one could have foreseen. And there is no black and white rule to follow here. In the eyes of the law you're unmarried, but beyond that...?"

"We're waiting for a piece of paper, essentially. We've already said vows and intend to keep them. And what if we have to wait months? This baby is going to be born in four or less and there's no guarantee everything will be sorted out by then."

"I can't tell you what to do, Christy."

"I know. I wish you could." Christy smiled wryly.

"You want me to tell you to go home to your husband?"

"I think maybe I should – but it's possible I only think that because I just so desperately want to."

"That doesn't mean it's wrong."

Christy nodded, sighed, yawned.

"Sleep on it, pray, and in the morning, look to the hills." Alice smiled, nodding toward Christy's beloved view. "I wish I could open the scriptures and point to the verse that would tell you what to do."

"Perhaps you just did." Christy reached over and pulled her night gown out from under her pillow.

Alice smiled. "I will pray for thee. Thy courage, and health, are testimony that my prayers have been heard. And that God is good. _My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. _Second Corinthians twelve nine."

Christy sighed, "Thank you. Good night."

Alice left.


	11. It leans, and hearkens after it

Neil woke imagining the smell of coffee and groaned. It was tempting but painful to picture her in his home. He couldn't bring himself to move her things, though putting them away would undoubtedly give some relief. So he avoided spending any length of time in his cabin. He slept and ate and left whenever he could.

Rolling over, he tried to go back to sleep. Then he heard a pot bang against a table. He sat up like a shot, wondered if he was still dreaming, or being burgled, then he heard cutlery scrape.

He got up, threw the door open, and two steps down the stairs saw her. "What are you doing?" He continued down the stairs, pretty certain now that he wasn't imagining things. Christy was making breakfast.

"Making breakfast." She turned with a smile that stopped him in his tracks. She put down the cloth in her hands and leaned back against the bench. "It's an apology, an edible one."

"An apology? Whatever for?"

"For staying away so long."

"You don't need to apologise. You have your reasons."

"I think I was wrong." She busied herself serving breakfast.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she poured the coffee, "that I should be here, with you." She held out a chair but he didn't sit down. She looked up at him.  
>"You're coming home? You're home. To stay." He didn't sound like he really believed it.<p>

"If that's alright."

It took a few seconds to register, but when it did he laughed, "If it's alright?" He pulled her into his arms. "I thought I was dreaming when I heard you from upstairs. I thought I'd progressed to full-on hallucinations of you." He shook his head, "If it's alright."

"I'm sorry, I don't know why it took me so long to figure it out." She clung to him.

"Figure what out?"

"I was so concerned that being with you might be wrong, but it never occurred to me that _not_ being here might be the greater sin – hurting you and... me." She swallowed. "This baby needs you, and so do I. And you need us, so... what's a piece of paper?"

"Do you mean it?"

She smiled up at him, stroked his cheek. "I don't know how I ever managed to stay away so long.'

He exhaled, smile brightening his features, and leaned into her touch

She hadn't seen him glow like that in months. Standing on tip-toes she kissed him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and sunk into his embrace.

He hugged her tight, holding on for dear life, waiting for his mind to register that she was back for good. "I know you were barely here a week but it's been like no home at all these past months. With your pictures on the walls and your things... I couldn't bare to put them away but, being here," he sighed and shook his head. "I was constantly reminded of your absence, as if I didn't have it in the back of my mind every moment."

She loosened her grip on him, leaned away, holding his shoulders. "I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, cupped her face between his hands. "Others are at fault. Not you." He kissed her softly, lingering, savouring every detail of the feel and taste of her.

She leaned into him, relishing the feel of his warm, firm body against hers. It felt so safe and solid.

He could feel her firm, round belly against his, and saw over her shoulder the breakfast spread. He loosened his grip on her. "You should eat."

She nodded, "We don't want it to go cold." She still held onto his arms.

"You might have to let me go, ever so briefly." He smiled at her.

She nodded, laughing at herself, then slid her arms around him again, hugging him tight.

"Or not. This is fine." He held her there. "Are you alright?"

"I just don't want to take it for granted."

"I know what you mean."

She let him go, sat down to breakfast.

"I kept thinking about that week, before Margaret came back. I was barely here but it didn't seem to matter because we thought we had forever, so what was a few days?"

"I missed you horribly – or I thought I did. Then I found out what it really meant to miss you horribly."

"Exactly." He took her hand and kissed her fingers. "Never again. I couldn't bare it."

"I think you'll still probably have to make night calls, be away a few days at a time, a few times a year."

He nodded. "But never more than that."

"Never." She agreed.

"So, you still have a healthy apetite?"

"Yes, but indigestion if I'm not careful, so lots of small meals."

"Alice's advice?"

Christy nodded.

"She has a knack for making me feel superfluous around pregnancy and childbirth. May it continue, I suppose. If they don't need a doctor then all is well."

"Still, I'd rather have you around."

He grinned, ate a few mouthfuls, planning his phrasing, then spoke. "I know the timing was unexpected and it's been difficult, for you especially, but I'm overjoyed."

She smiled. "Do you know how big it would be now?"

"Not off the top of my head but," he got up and went to his laboratory. A minute later he emerged with a large book, open to the index. He put it down on the table in front of her and knelt down at her side, flicking to a page.

She finished off her biscuit, watching him.

He turned to her, found her gaze on him, "What?"

"I missed you." She put her hand against his cheek and pushed her fingers into the hair behind his ear.

He grinned, reached up and kissed her.

They turned back to the book. He found the page and ran his finger down to the last paragraph. "About ten inches from head to toe."

She held her hands about that far apart and stared at the space between in wonder.

"He or she is proportioned like a new born, but thin, due to the lack of fat, which also causes the skin to be wrinkled and translucent. Lips are distinct, and the eyes are formed, but the iris has no colour as yet."

She shook her head and whispered, "Wow."

He smiled up at her, raised his eyebrows.

She sat up straight and looked down at her belly. "It's hard to imagine."

"May I?" He held out his hand to touch her.

"Of course." She leaned back against the chair and watched him, relishing his enjoyment. It should have been like this all along. She thought of her parents again, how much they too were missing out on, and how she really needed to find a way to tell them. They would insist she move home, for the baby's sake and her own. Her resolve to stay with Neil so fresh, she felt unequal to the task of an argument with her mother about it.

"I'm sorry." Neil caught her worried expression. "It's so easy to forget that this is anything other than wonderful."

"No, I love that you're so happy about it. I just haven't found a way to tell my parents. I'm dreading it, is all."

"I didn't realise they didn't know." He ran his fingers through his hair and moved back to his seat.

"I was going to wait till we'd got everything sorted out."

"Til we could marry, make it all official."

"Til I didn't have to argue with my mother about staying here – in Cutter Gap – rather than going back to Ashville."

"It's not going to stay a secret much longer."

Christy nodded.

"How much longer were you planning to teach?"

She shrugged, sighed.

"Before or after it became public knowledge."

"About the same time, I imagine."

He watched her, realising she was worried about the cove people's response. "You know what I've been getting for my services the past few months, other than beans and flour? Advice. Everyone on this mountain seems to think you and I should be together. It's none of their business of course, but you know how people can be and I don't think you've got a thing to worry about."

"They boycotted the school over less."

"Yes, but you were an outsider then. You're underestimating their loyalty to me."

She drank her coffee, trying to believe him, to be reassured.

"We can go to Ashville, if you'd prefer. Or anywhere you like."

"No. I want to stay here." She smiled, "It'd be a shame break tradition – how many generations of MacNeils have been born here now?"

He considered a moment, "Four."

The fire crackled and, seeing it needed another log, Neil got up and went to the hearth.

Christy cleared their plates and then joined him.

New log in place, he stood up and drew her close. "Before I met you," he spoke into her hair, his voice low and full of feeling, "I had given up on having a family. I thought I'd missed my chance."

"You and Margaret never..?"

"She had a miscarriage, just after we moved here. I thought that was why she was so unhappy. I should have listened. I was devastated and so I assumed she felt the same way. I worked more and more after that. I suppose I disappeared before she did."

"Did you see her?" Christy asked, "After that day she came back?"

"I found her in El Pano the next day. I told her I wanted a divorce. She wasn't surprised, but I've no doubt she's the reason it's taking so long."

"What if she refuses?"

"I'm assured there's no legal argument on her side, but she can disappear."

"Then what?"

He sighed, "It just takes longer. I'm so glad you came back."

She reached up and kissed him. He gathered her into his arms, relishing her soft skin, the smell of fresh baking and rose water, the firm touch of her hands against his neck and arms. It never ceased to amaze him, how she wanted him. She kissed his neck and tightened her arms around his shouders. "So am I." She felt the baby move, as if he were somersaulting. "Oh my word." She stepped back, put her hands to her stomach, silent and waiting.

He watched. After a minute of nothing, he asked, "Anything?"

"Sometimes I feel more if I lie down."

He led her to the couch and knelt beside her. She took his hand and lay it beside hers on her stomach. They waited and felt nothing.

She sighed, smiled. "Guess not."

He leaned over her and kissed her, running his hand up from her belly.

"Oh! You missed it." She laughed as the baby kicked again.

He returned his hand to her belly. "That should teach me."

"But it won't?" She kissed him again, tentative and distracted, waiting for the kick, focussed on her belly rather than Neil. After a minute or two her focus shifted. His mouth was warm and familiar, kissing her with increasing passion.

The baby did kick again, just as she completely forgot about waiting for it.

Neil paused, touched his nose to hers, grinned. Then went right back to kissing her.

She rolled toward him, a minute later slid off the couch, closing the space between them. Finally, she was home.


End file.
